


Cockadoodledoo!

by Camelittle



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Crack, Fluff, Gratuitous knob gags, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-18
Updated: 2013-02-18
Packaged: 2017-11-29 17:45:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/689710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Camelittle/pseuds/Camelittle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was silly o'clock in the morning and Arthur could hear an urgent hissing noise in his ear. Some sort of snake, perhaps, had entered his chambers... no not a snake, it was coughing now and barking his name. Snakes can't bark. A dog. A snakey dog with a chest infection. That could say his name! Sorcery!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cockadoodledoo!

**Author's Note:**

> Who can resist Arthur first thing in the morning? Certainly Merlin can't!

It was silly o'clock in the morning and Arthur could hear heard an urgent hissing noise in his ear. Some sort of snake, perhaps, had entered his chambers... no not a snake, it was coughing now and barking his name. Snakes can't bark. A dog. A snakey dog with a chest infection. That could say his name! Sorcery!

"Arthur."

Yes, there must be a sorcerer. Snakey, coughy, talking dogs with name fetishes were definitely the kind of thing that sorcerers will send, in the MIDDLE of the night, to ruin his sleep. Well he wasn't going to fall for that old trick 

"Arthur!" 

"Mfmfmmm." Arthur turned over, attempting to bury his head in the blankets, a sure fire way of escaping from evil magicians intent on murdering his sleep.

But no, now some clown was yelling in his ear, replacing the snakey talking dog, and his eiderdown felt terribly lumpy, as if some insubordinate yet sexually talented magician-cum-manservant had somehow entered his bed, and now occupied a small corner of it, filling it with complaints and testy sayings. 

"Ooof! Arthur, stop you are squashing me!"

Yes, that was his idiot servant - who, despite being quite magical in some areas, and surprisingly talented with his tongue - who would have thought that? - was nevertheless going to suffer, later, for waking Arthur up far too early. 

"Arthur, please, you're lying on my arm and I can't get up to get your breakf... Oh!" Merlin broke off, open-mouthed.

For Arthur had finally released Merlin's arm from underneath his golden torso and was silhouetted against the dawn light, unmistakeably tenting the bedclothes with his magnificent erection. Which the manservant in question was now eyeing hungrily, the corner of his lip kinking up, an invitation or a promise.

At that point, somewhere outside, the castle cockerel let out a raucous rooster-crow to salute the day, and Merlin snorted a laugh, letting his fingers spiderwalk gently towards Arthur's rampant rod and giving it a mischievous tweak through the sheet. Arthur moaned, half way between arousal and annoyance, a common state of affairs when Merlin was in his company. 

"Would you like me to erm. Massage. Your Courtly Cockadoodledoo," said Merlin, before dissolving into peals of mirth. "After all, your Morning Monument seems to be rather more awake than the rest of you this morning. Sire." Merlin, clearly overcome at his own cleverness at this point, chortled at his own, extremely unfunny, joke. 

Arthur tried not to smile. He was painfully awake now, and on the edge of a fit of the giggles at Merlin's evocative use of language.

"Merlin, Merlin, slow down. I'm sure my Princely Prick can wait a moment or two." His eyes raked Merlin's flushed face and disheveled mop of black hair, before moving pointedly further south, to the area where a thin line of black hairs led from Merlin's navel towards his crotch. The teasing hairline disappeared beneath the covers, like an arrow pointing to the perky inverted-V of the bedsheet that draped Merlin's hard cock. Arthur's gaze travelled reluctantly back to Merlin's face. "I think I would like to renew my acquaintance with your Sorcerer's Sausage first..."

Merlin held Arthur's eyes for two whole seconds before he had to press his lips together to avoid exploding. His eyes watered with the effort of suppressing his grin. And then the two men both exhaled together and held onto each other for dear life as they surrendered to hilarity, guffawing, bodies shaking.

"Sorcerer's Sausage," croaked Merlin, after a few seconds, "Arthur it's a good thing you're a king not a poet, because..." 

Arthur looked hurt. "I'll have you know that I won a prize for poetry when I was a prince." 

"Are you sure that the judge wasn't, you know..." 

"What?"

"Lusting after your... Prat's Pestle?"

Arthur lunged across Merlin's face with a pillow, pressed it over that insolent, irresistable mouth. "I'm going to gag you Merlin, in the interest of my own sanity." Merlin writhed and squeaked under the pillow, arms and legs flailing uselessly, voice muffled.

Arthur lifted the pillow so that Merlin could breathe and then shifted across him, so that his face was hovering over the other man's, and their bodies were aligned. Merlin's fleshy lips were pink and flushed, his eyes were dark and wet with merriment. 

"Want me to suck your Noble Knob?" he whispered, and between love and laughter Arthur's heart was full in that moment. 

"First, dear Merlin, I must ask you if I may palm your Wizard's Wand."

And Merlin's smile spoke words of love and lust as he said, "Of course. And then maybe I could do the same to your Sovereign's Shaft?" 

"Damnit, Merlin, your Conjuror's Cock is so hard I think Tyrant's Todger may be damaged by it. I fear that it could be classed as a blunt instrument of torture." 

"But sire, my Spellcaster's Salami is but a sweet little puppy that wants to be stroked... and ... erm... oh ... yes... "  

There was a pause while Arthur attempted, energetically, and with some success to remedy matters with his hand, which thankfully had the simultaneous and serendipitous effect of stopping Merlin from talking.

And Merlin reciprocated, a little later, with his mouth, performing an act which was both marvellous and also, if you discount slurping and humming noises from Merlin's vicinity, and incoherent gasping sounds from Arthur's, mercifully silent. 

Later, spent, the two men flopped, pink with exertion, back onto the bed with hands interlaced while their breaths and heartbeats slowed down. 

"Arthur, the thing about your King's Kaboodle...."

"Merlin!"

"Sire?"

"Just shut up."

Outside the cock crowed again, faintly. Cockadoodledoo!


End file.
